“No. In fact, I've never been to a dance like this before."
“A few years back they wanted to cut out the old dances. Said the kids didn't want to do them and would stop coming, so we tried for a while. They were the first ones to complain," Margery said.
“I think it's important," Faith told her. "Otherwise they would never know how to do them and a whole part of the island's history would be lost. I hope there will be some more, and the musicians were wonderful.”
Sonny looked at her appreciatively. "They just do it for fun. We have an awful lot of good times in the winter. Those three will come by and we'll have a musical evening. There was an English lady here last summer, and she heard them play down to the inn. She said a lot of the songs were old English and Scottish ones. And here we thought we'd invented them on the island. Anyway they've been here a long time.”
Sonny was being his friendly and loquacious self, and Faith didn't think it all could be chalked up to the nips he was having out by his Chevy. By dancing she had taken a step away from being an off-island onlooker to becoming at least an appreciative outsider. She thought of the quilt. Little did they know how much and how well she was getting to know the island.
Sonny and Margery excused themselves to dance, and Faith was lost in thought when she heard a familiar voice.
“You were stepping pretty lively from what I could see, Mrs. Fairchild, and I hope you'll give a poor old man a dance." It was Freeman.
“Show me the poor old man first," answered Faith.
“Now that's what I call kind." He pulled her to her feet and energetically steered her onto the dance floor. It was "The Beer Barrel Polka" and fortunately it was half over. After they had spun around for a while, there was another of those abrupt changes of direction and the Mariners segued into "The Tennessee Waltz."
“My favorite," said Freeman. "Are you game for another?"
“Absolutely.”
The waltz afforded more opportunity for conversation, and after they had maneuvered over to wave at Nan, Faith commented that the Edsons didn't seem to be dancers.
“I guess that's true," observed Freeman. "Come to think of it, I never have seen Paul dance. Edith used to be pretty spry when we were younger."
“Maybe he likes to sit and take the lay of the land.”
Freeman slowed down a bit and appeared to be thinking of something. When he responded, his voice had lost some of its teasing quality.
“You seem to have gotten pretty interested in this island in the short time you've been here. I don't deny that a lot has happened to you that sort of dragged you in. But sometimes it isn't always good to know too much about a place too fast.”
Faith was startled. Was this some kind of warning? Did Freeman know about the clues in the quilt? Or was it the normal reaction of someone who liked her to the fact that she had come upon two corpses and had her house broken into in less than a week?
She spoke slowly. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, but I certainly don't mean to push myself in where I'm not wanted."
“Now, now it's not that. Not that at all. Just take it slow, Faith." He smiled broadly at her. "Since you're so interested in things, I'll tell you what we say about Paul Edson around here. He's what we call a `self-made man,' and that lets the Almighty off the hook. Now I'd better dance with my wife or the whole island will have me in divorce court on Monday." He gave her hand a squeeze as they walked over to Nan. Faith felt as if she had been stood in the corner and given a star all at the same time. She greeted Nan. "Thanks for the loan of your husband. He's a treat to dance with."
“He's a treat, all right," Nan said as she glanced lovingly at Freeman. "You can borrow him anytime. He's awful good at weeding the garden and chopping wood too."
“Now Nan," protested Freeman. "One female slave driver is enough!”
The three of them laughed and Faith went back to her chair. She had told the girls that was where she would be if they needed her for anything, and she didn't want to desert her post for too long.
Nobody asked her to dance, and the next half hour dragged a little despite the excitement of the raffle drawing. Sevenyear-old Missy Sanford drew her own grandmother's name and everybody cheered as Missy solemnly presented her with a large canned ham and got a big kiss in return.
Faith's chair was near the door, so she saw Eric before he spotted her. He was wearing spotless white Levi's and a navy polo shirt open at the throat. He looked cool, crisp, and very handsome. She automatically looked for Jill, but he appeared to be alone. Maybe he was meeting her at the dance. He certainly seemed to be looking for someone, standing in the door and letting his eyes travel across the crowd. At last they landed on her, and he smiled and made his way over.
“Faith! What on earth are you doing here all by your lonesome?"
“Gooseberrying. You know, the honorable role of 'chaperone.' Pix is having one of her allergy attacks, so I'm here to keep Samantha and Arlene on the straight and narrow. A pretty easy job."
“Poor Pix. This smoke would have been murder for her. I always stink after one of these things.”
He was speaking clearly, but Faith had the definite impression Eric had been drinking. It was the way he shaped his words—precisely and with extra care. He asked her to dance and stumbled slightly as he gallantly reached for her hand to pull her to her feet.
“Love the band, don't you? Good beat and easy to dance to. I give it a seven and a half." He laughed.
Maybe Jill didn't like to dance, Faith thought. Or maybe Eric liked to have a few beers and go solo. As was often the case with Faith, to speculate was to query.
“Where's Jill tonight?"
“We're not married, you know," Eric answered peevishly, then modified his tone. "Not yet, anyway, but I hope it will be soon. This is strictly entre nous, Faith, not even Pix. She'd be arranging showers and trousseaux or what have you if she knew."
“I'm so pleased, Eric. For both of you. It's been such a difficult time for you, and you deserve some happiness.”
He pulled her closer and said, "Thank you, Faith. Thank you for understanding.”
The band was playing and Eric hummed along. He pulled Faith a bit nearer, and while one part of her was definitely enjoying the feel of his lean, muscular body, another was slightly uncomfortable at the increasing proximity and the fact that he was slowing down to a standstill. She could count on the band, though, and as they zoomed into "Twist and Shout," Eric broke away abruptly and began an extremely athletic version of the old classic. After a few minutes Faith said, "I've got to sit down, Eric, and it's getting close to eleven. The girls will be looking for me. That is, they'd better be looking for me."
“Go do your duty, my beautiful duenna," he replied, and walked over to the wall and grabbed the first woman he saw. She looked pleased and began to match him step for step.
Definitely feeling no pain, Faith reflected in amusement. It was good to see him letting loose and having some fun.
Samantha and Arlene were dancing at last. With the two boys from the "Lady of the Lake" square dance. Ten more minutes. Faith was sure they would be good about going, and she was ready to leave herself. The band decided to continue the frenzied momentum they had created and started in on "Louie Louie." Eric was still dancing with the same partner. Sonny and Margery gyrated alongside. Both couples were not far from where Faith was sitting.
Suddenly Eric seemed to register the fact that Sonny was there. He turned and said something to him that Faith couldn't hear. Sonny said something back, and the two women seemed to be trying to keep the men dancing. Margery put her hand on Sonny's arm, and he angrily shook it away. The couples around them gave them a wide berth.